I was ill, and Jim came over and cooked some dinner. English winter darkness enveloped the garden beyond the patio doors as we tucked into our chilli. Jim was also tucking into another Guinness – a nutritious drink which allows him to crush his enemies. All was cozy and relaxed, when a howl came from the darkness outside. I immedtiately knew what it was and ran to the door and grabbed the weapon I leave there. I flung open the door and the howls and wails intensified. I quickly covered the five metres to their source and took aim as the security light turned on and illuminated the scene. The two cats were locked in combat, and froze for a second when they became aware of me taking aim at them. It was going to be close – they were inches apart – I would have to be precise to take out Leroy without also obliterating Fi. I let fly with a volley of water from the water pistol, and Leroy took off like a wet cat, leaving Fy on her back on the patio. She regained her composure and ran back inside the house.
Oh the embarrassment. It was like having to save your kids from being bullied at school. Jim laughed at the pathetic cats I am cat sitting. There are three of them, and Leroy is but one in number. True, Leroy is more of a small leopard than a domestic moggy, but surely these three moggies could outflank him and make him overextend his supply chain or something. Needless to say, the cats have been on an intensive training programme since the last defeat. I haven’t started feeding them Guinness yet, but they have been lured into chasing string and fighting each other. I send them out in packs too. Leroy is going down.